Aftershocks
by MizJoely
Summary: Set in the aftermath of "Earthshock." Adric is dead and Tegan is badgering the Doctor to go back and save him; he can't make her understand why it's so impossible, and things just escalate from there. Five-Tegan, M for a reason.
1. Shock The Monkey

_A/N: My obsession with Tegan/Five continues. Although this part is pretty tame, what will follow in the next couple of chapters is possibly __the filthiest thing I've ever written. And yet even in a pure smutfest like this story, I think I've managed to sneak in some actual character development and a thought-provoking moment or two. Many thanks as always to my awesome beta, Moonmama, who always pushes me not to just settle for "good enough". _

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"Tegan, you're not listening!"

"And you're not saying anything new! So why should I?!"

The two combatants exchanged glares as they stood nose to nose in the Console Room. Neither had noticed when Nyssa bolted from the room, too caught up in their own drama to spare time for hers.

Nor did they notice how close they'd moved toward each other, the way their fists were clenched equally by their sides, as if ready to deliver physical blows as well as the verbal ones they'd already been exchanging.

When the Doctor made no response to her last accusation, Tegan jutted her chin aggressively. "Well? You still haven't given me one good reason why we can't fly your _time machine_," the last spoken with heavily emphasized irony, "back in time to rescue Adric!"

Well and truly giving the impression of a man whose last nerve has been thoroughly trod upon, he replied through gritted teeth: "Because, Tegan. It's. Not. SAFE!"

The last word was shouted, literally into her face, and she flinched back as he spun on his heel and strode out of the Console Room, radiating outrage and frustration.

No one had ever called Tegan Jovanka a coward. She'd relished driving the heavy machinery on the family ranch, she'd absolutely loved learning to pilot their twin-engine Cessna, and her decision to become an air hostess rather than a pilot had been based solely on which option would give her the chance to see the world quicker.

She'd stepped into an antique police call box and found herself literally in another world, traveling with aliens. She'd been on alien planets and watched the Doctor regenerate into an entirely different person.

She'd be damned if she was going to drop this argument, no matter how much of a "let it go or else" vibe he was giving off.

She'd never backed off from a challenge in her life.

With a fierce scowl marring her otherwise pleasant features, high heels ticking noisily on the uncarpeted TARDIS floor, she hurried after the Doctor.

**oOo**

She caught up with him just outside the door to his private quarters. She'd never been inside, but didn't hesitate to continue after him when he opened the door and stepped inside.

He must have heard her following him, but instead of stopping her at the entrance or slamming the door in her face, he left it open, allowed her entry. Or so she chose to interpret that open door; as an invitation to continue haranguing him.

That seeming courtesy took a bit of the wind out of her sails, but her dander was well and truly roused and nothing was going to stop her from having it out with him.

"Why isn't it safe?" she asked, exactly as if they hadn't just spent five minutes traversing numerous corridors since last speaking.

The Doctor was standing in front of a wooden desk, head down, one hand fiddling with some papers, the other held behind his back. For a moment Tegan thought he wasn't going to answer her, that he was finally going to snap at her to get out of his private rooms, when he turned to face her.

The anger that had suffused his features in the Console Room appeared to be back under control; his face was calm, his expression absolutely neutral. "Do you have a degree in temporal mechanics?" he asked. "Did you study temporal ethics along with tea service in first class? Hmm? Are you perhaps a Time Lord in disguise?"

Not so under control after all; those last, cutting remarks were meant to hurt. Tegan crossed her arms and glared at him. "You know I'm not," she spat out, the spark of anger easily rekindled by his condescending tone. "I don't even know what any of those other things are, and you know that, too."

"And that is why I can't explain it to you better," he replied, his voice once again cool and controlled – although a closer look revealed a twitch in his jaw that might imply he was grinding his back teeth in an effort to resist the urge to shout at her again. "If we try to rescue Adric, if we go back right now to that freighter – which has already crashed into Earth 65 million years ago – we risk upsetting a delicate temporal balance. His death is now a fixed point – "

Tegan waved away his attempt at an explanation with an impatient huff. "Yeah, you said all that already. But I still don't know _how_ you know that. No one saw him die, we were in the TARDIS. Sure, we saw the freighter crash, but who's to say we didn't – don't – go back right now and fetch him out? The freighter will still crash, but Adric won't be on board. Everybody wins – us and the laws of time and space or whatever."

She was rather pleased with herself for coming up with this solution, but of course the Doctor was ready to smash her argument to bits. "You wouldn't think that if the human race suddenly vanished," he snapped, then fell silent with a look of dismayed chagrin, as if she'd goaded him into saying something he hadn't meant to.

Tegan pounced on his words, taking a step further into the room as she demanded to know what he was talking about. "How could the Human race just vanish?"

He sighed and tucked his hands into his pockets, eyes downcast, before returning his gaze to meet hers. To tell her something she clearly wasn't going to like. "Adric is from an entirely different universe, you know that much, correct?"

Tegan gave a wary nod in response. "Yeah, but what's that got to do – "

"Just listen!" the Doctor snapped. His hands had gone back to clenching and unclenching at his sides, and with visible effort he loosened them so he could clasp them behind his back. "Adric is from E Space, yet if you and he had conceived a child, there would be no medical intervention needed during the pregnancy, and you would give birth to a healthy, human-looking child after the normal amount of time had passed. What does that tell you?"

Tegan gave him a blank stare; he was getting at something, sure, but she had no idea what. "That you've been secretly planning a cross-species breeding program?" she finally asked, falling back on sarcasm to keep from feeling as slow and stupid as she frequently did around him. "I dunno, Doc, what's it supposed to tell me?"

"That Human DNA and Alzarian DNA are extremely similar," came his overly patient, lecturing-to-a-slow-student reply. "Which is statistically impossible, given your disparate origins. Why do you suppose that is?"

Oh, how she _loathed_ that tone of his. Still, he was asking her a question that must hold a hint for her, so she did her best to ignore the tone and actually consider what he was saying. Without luck. "I must be stupid," she muttered unwillingly. She always hated admitting ignorance about anything to the Doctor. "You have to spell it out."

"The freighter, carrying Adric's DNA, exploded, bringing an end to the age of the dinosaurs and heralding a brave new world ruled by mammals. Including your ancestors," he added pointedly as she stared up at him.

The penny finally dropped. Tegan's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait, are you saying, that if Adric hadn't died in that crash, humans wouldn't have evolved? That's – that's just crazy!"

"Crazy or not, it is a fact," he replied, turning away from her again and shrugging out of his coat. He tossed it in the direction of a wooden coat rack standing in a corner of the small room; of course it landed neatly on the peg, where it was rapidly joined by his jumper. "Now if you'll excuse me, Tegan, I am desperately in need of some rest."

Tears welled up in her eyes as Tegan struggled to process the enormity of what the Doctor had just revealed. "So you're saying…the only reason Humans exist…is because Adric had to die?" Then, as something else occurred to her: "Wait, when did you know this stuff about our DNA? How long did you suspect something like this was going to happen?"

Just like that she switched back into attack mode. It was so much easier to be angry than to be confused and frightened.

They'd been standing in what she took to be a sort of anteroom, or perhaps a very small study, a room occupied only by the plain wooden desk, its matching chair, and the coat rack. The Doctor had turned his back on her again and was heading through another door. Presumably it led into the rest of his suite of rooms; bedroom or sitting room, library or kitchen, who knew? Either way, she stormed in after him as she shouted her last question.

Bedroom. She took in that much before zeroing in on the Doctor, who was standing in front of a dresser, his back to her. She noted with part of her mind that he'd kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his cuffs – giving her a pointed, non-verbal message that he wanted to be left alone if she'd been in any mood to notice such things – but she was too caught up in her emotional upheaval to care. She reached out and pounded him on the back with her fist, demanding his full attention. "How long have you known this?" she yelled.

The yell turned abruptly into a yelp as he whirled and grabbed her wrist in a punishing hold, blue eyes glittering with fury. "Tegan, you're upset, we're all upset about Adric's death, but a childish temper tantrum won't do either of us any good!"

She slapped him. Hard.

The change in his demeanor was immediate, and Tegan realized she'd gone too far. She tried to pull out of his hold, only to have him grab her other wrist and take the two steps needed to slam her against the wall. Her breath went out of her in a whoosh as she fixed her gaze on the Doctor's furious face.

She knew she should probably offer an apology and just slink back to the room she shared with Nyssa, but some demon kept the words from leaving her lips. Instead, as her breath returned she found herself kicking and struggling against the Doctor's inhumanly strong hold, demanding that he let her go.

She may as well have railed at the Universe. He simply glared down at her, his gaze fixed, cheeks flushed, and she found herself wondering, inappropriately enough, if she'd ever seen eyes that exact shade of blue before.

When she opened her mouth again the Doctor shocked her to her very soul by swooping his head down and crashing his lips against hers in a punishing kiss.


	2. Shockwave

_A/N: Two Things: I own nothing and, remember my comment at the beginning of the first chapter, about this being the filthiest thing I've ever written? Yeah, we're getting to that part now. Plus one more chapter after this one, at least. Possibly two or at least an epilogue since I've already got a sequel set during "Arc of Infinity" in progress. Enjoy!_

* * *

The Doctor had never kissed a woman in anger before. Certainly not the way he was kissing Tegan at this very moment, tongue invading, hands holding hers against the TARDIS wall, body pressed so tightly against hers he might have been trying to merge them into one being.

And Tegan was responding, not fighting him anymore, melting into his embrace as if she'd been expecting things to end this way.

Had she? Did he care?

No, he decided as he pulled his mouth away from hers and bit down hard on the base of her throat. He didn't. He didn't bloody care about anything right now except continuing what he was already doing.

**oOo**

Oh God, the Doctor was kissing her, his tongue demanding entry, her own meeting his as she obediently opened her mouth to deepen the kiss. He was kissing her, her body shoved up against the TARDIS wall, his sturdy form pressed against hers in what could never be interpreted as an impersonal manner.

Especially not if what she suspected was happening below the belt, so to speak, was actually happening. She felt…something, not a raging hard-on but the stirrings of what might be turning into one. It certainly wasn't his sonic screwdriver.

All she had to do was keep her stupid mouth shut and maybe this would go even further than this marvelous, toe-curling kiss.

Even his harsh grip on her wrists, imprisoning her arms above her head, brought waves of pleasure crashing over her. Normally she wasn't one for dominance games, but this was the Doctor, whom she'd wanted so desperately and for so long that she would gladly submit to anything he wanted to do to her.

As long as it ended with him inside her and her screaming his name as she came.

He was breathing heavily as he slid his lips off hers, moving down to sink his teeth into her throat as if he were a vampire, and she gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain his mouth evoked. She was frustrated by her inability to move her legs, trapped as they were beneath his, but she could writhe about a bit and did so, grinding her pelvis against his urgently. If only he'd let go her arms, she'd really show him what a tiger she could be, get that half-frozen cock of his working the way it was meant to…

Her hazy, half-formed wish came true as the Doctor suddenly released his hold on her hands. Unfortunately, at the same time he pulled his body and his mouth away, leaving Tegan blinking and confused as she slid her arms down to shoulder height and then down to her sides.

Heart pounding, her breathing harsh and ragged, she stared at him, taking in his own fragmented breaths, the flush on his cheeks and the uncertain, almost frightened expression on his face. She watched his mouth opening and feared he was about to offer up a stream of apologies and excuses and throw her out of his rooms, and she absolutely was _not_ going to allow any such thing to happen.

So she did what she did best: she mouthed off to him. Peeling herself away from the wall, thrusting her hands onto her hips and forcing her breathing back under control, she jutted her chin out in a clear challenge and sneered: "What's the matter, Doc? Scared of a little sex?"

There was no way in hell he was going to be allowed to get her all worked up like this and simply walk away.

For a long moment she was afraid that was exactly what he _was_ going to do. Then his eyes narrowed into chips of ice as he took the two steps that separated them and yanked her back against his body, once again crushing her lips beneath his.

This time he held her arms behind her back, still frustrating her burning need to embrace him. He gave her no time to struggle, instead half-lifting her and spinning her around until the backs of her knees bumped into the end of his bed.

Tegan buckled as he must have known she would, collapsing onto the mattress with him still on top of her. She kicked off her shoes as she continued to allow him to plunder her mouth, meeting his tongue with her own and struggling to free her wrists from his punishing grasp.

Forbidden the use of her hands, she used her legs instead, wrapping them around his lower limbs, sliding the side of one foot along his legs until she reached the arch of his bottom, hooking that leg around his waist in complete disregard of how it bunched her uniform skirt up around her hips. She was intent only on showing him exactly how ready she was for him, how desperately she wanted him.

Her efforts were rewarded by a sudden blaze of heat against her stomach and pelvis as his shaft hardened into full erectness, straining against the fabric of his trousers and tearing an appreciative moan from her throat.

Oh God, he wanted her. He wanted her, maybe as much as she wanted him.

**oOo**

There was a very small part of his mind, the cool, analytical, and emotionally distant part that was watching his actions with disapproval.

The rest of him was howling with a combination of want and need.

Lust.

She infuriated him. She argued with him, she ran off when she should stay by his side, told him off when she had no right to. She was stubborn, she was uneducated – at least by Time Lord standards – and she was far from being the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

He wanted her.

Desperately.

And judging by the way she was returning his harsh, demanding kisses, the way she was writhing and squirming beneath him, the way her legs were entwined with his, she wanted him just as badly.

His breath caught as Tegan hiked one leg up and wrapped it around his waist, and he felt his groin tighten in response. Felt the stirring of his shaft as it hardened and thickened, a length of flame with only one way to be quenched.

Inside her. Deep, deep inside her, surrounded by the slick wetness he could feel even between all the layers of clothing that were the only things keeping him from shoving his cock into her right this second.

Clothing that had to go.

_Now_.

He released her wrists and slid off her body, standing up in order to wrestle with the buttons of his shirt, absurdly glad that he'd already started the process of undressing himself, that he didn't have to discard jacket and jumper and trainers on top of trousers and shirt and boxers and socks.

Tegan gave a shiver at the sudden lack of contact, raising herself on her elbows and studying him as if afraid he was stopping instead of just taking care of the inconvenient clothing that remained between the two of them. Her eyes lit up as she took in his frenzied efforts to unbutton his shirt, and she hurried to undo her own buttons, sitting up as she shrugged her uniform blouse off her shoulders.

She joined him at the foot of the bed once tops had been discarded and only bottoms were left, although she hadn't bothered to remove her lacy brassiere – lilac, to match the rest of her ensemble, part of his mind retained the clarity to note. With approval.

Her blouse had already joined his shirt on the floor and Tegan had started shimmying out of her skirt and skinning her panty hose down her thighs and over her knees and ankles. She bent over to remove the clingy fabric and the Doctor paused in his own efforts, hands on the waistband of his trousers as he gaped at the enticing sight of her satin-clad bottom wiggling inches from the part of his body that was most eager to make her closer acquaintance.

He pressed against her with an animalistic groan that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside his psyche rather than his throat, hands grasping her hips as he ground against her. His fingers found purchase on the elastic of her knickers, tugging them down over her hips, eliciting a further groan as his erection strained against the remaining barriers between their flesh, his loosened trousers and boxers. He really needed to do something about that, but it felt so good he was reluctant to move even the few inches necessary to complete the job he'd started.

Tegan gasped at his touch, turning her head to watch him over her shoulder, and he felt his arousal level rocket skyward at the sight. Maintaining eye contact, he fumbled his trousers and boxers down around his ankles one handed, leaving the other free to explore the exposed contours of her lush figure.

Some primitive impulse drove him to drop to his knees once the remainder of his clothing had been kicked away from his body, although his prick throbbed with a definite sense of annoyance at the sudden discontinuation of the friction it had been enjoying. As Tegan continued to watch, he leaned forward and ran his tongue up the crack of her ass, at the same time sliding his fingers between her legs in order to explore the slick wetness they found there.

Tegan's eyes widened, her mouth opened in a shocked "O" as her legs wobbled. They might have given out all together if he hadn't returned to his feet and pulled her firmly against his naked body, pressing a series of feverish kisses to the back of her neck.

"Hell's teeth, Doc," she gasped, her head lolling forward, her hands circling behind her body in order to clutch at his hips, clinging on as if for dear life. "That's…oh, God…" she moaned as he slipped the straps of her bra down over her shoulders, reaching around front to release the clasp, thus freeing her breasts for his exploration. His fingers sought and pressed the pebbled tips of her nipples, squeezing them with not even the semblance of tenderness as he bit down on the juncture of neck and shoulder, sucking greedily at her flesh.

Her gasps and moans enflamed him further, and he wasted no time in shoving her face-down onto the bed, , and covering her heated flesh with his own. She writhed beneath him, her hands clenching the bedclothes as if they were the only things anchoring her to reality. He slipped one hand between her legs, rubbing his thumb along her dripping opening, seeking and finding the small bundle of nerves every humanoid woman possessed and that far too frequently went undiscovered by careless or selfish lovers.

Not him. He was a Time Lord, and Time Lords noticed everything, wasted no resources and mastered every art to which they turned a hand.

Tegan cried out, a series of soft mewling cries that fell on his ears like the most pleasing music he'd ever heard. She didn't struggle to turn herself over, he noted with a sense of distant surprise; she'd been so obviously intent on putting her hands on him from the moment he trapped her wrists and refused her that contact.

He understood that by allowing him this dominance that she was signaling her surrender to the moment; it was no longer a battle, he'd clearly won and she was ready for him to name his terms.

_Yesss,_ part of his mind hissed in victory, but not an analytical part, not a cool and distant part. No, this was far too primal for that part of his mind to be permitted control or even acknowledgement. He moved his hands away from Tegan's body; she made a sound of protest that died in her throat as he placed one hand on either side of her hips and tugged slightly, lifting her up.

Tegan followed his wordless directions with an eagerness that told him she wasn't feeling at all punished by his presence behind her, that she wasn't simply submitting to him but wanted the same thing he did. Himself, deep inside her. Riding her hard, bringing her to climax. And this was his chance to do so while still maintaining the slightest bit of Time Lord reserve as he watched from above.

His shaft quivered at the dizzying visual that flashed through his mind, and his fingers tightened in a spasm of pure animal lust. She'd raised herself to her hands and knees and was looking over her shoulder at him with equal hunger, her legs spreading themselves to allow him easier access. He slid a finger inside her, then a second, nearly groaning at the feel of her interior muscles clenching eagerly around his probing digits, the moist heat that signaled her readiness for penetration of a more challenging nature, her desire and need radiating from her in waves he could almost see and taste and feel…

He didn't bother restraining his next groan as he pulled his hand away from her dripping pussy, wrapped it around the base of his cock and thrust himself into her. Then he was clutching her hips again, wringing gasps and moans and more of those intoxicating, mewling cries of pure pleasure from her lips as she ground against him, matching his furious pace with her own.

When she leaned down on her elbows and pressed her forehead into the covers, shivering and shaking, he understood her wordless request, what she was begging for, and slid one hand between her legs, flicking his thumb over her clit in a softer rhythm that acted as a counterpoint to the furious pumping of his cock.

She screamed, lifted her head, threw it back and literally _screamed_ as she climaxed, those lovely, slick interior muscles clenching and unclenching around him, her body shaking, sweat shining on her back and buttocks and forehead as she shuddered with pleasure until all the energy seemed to drain out of her at once.

She dropped her head back to the coverlet, her body spasming and quivering as he continued to pound into her, both hands back on her hips as his felt his own, savage climax coming to claim him. Then it was his turn to throw back his head and howl his pleasure, crying out her name juxtaposed against a near prayer to a deity he'd neither believed in nor met in his long, long series of lifetimes. "Oh, God, Tegan…!"

After the dizzying heights came the inevitable fall. Trembling, he collapsed down on her, his weight pressing both bodies into the mattress, his arms automatically enfolding her. He trailed a row of kisses along the back of her neck as the release of a sexual tension he'd only this day been made aware of slipped from their bodies.


	3. Shock and Awe

Anger drained, passion spent, the Doctor and Tegan lay pressed together front to back, legs entwined, in post-coital lassitude. Her head rested on his arm and he brushed the occasional kiss to her shoulder and neck while the fingers of one hand traced idle patterns on her bare thigh. "Well," the Doctor said after a long moment of silence had passed. "That was…"

"Yeah, it was," Tegan agreed, a trace of impishness breaking through the sleepiness of her voice.

Another comfortable silence descended on them as they lay together, lost in their own thoughts. When the Doctor spoke again, it was in a quiet, meditative voice. "Now I understand."

"What, about sex?" was Tegan's teasing response. "Sorry, Doc, but after that performance you'll never convince me this was your first time."

"Of course it wasn't," he said, not bothering to take offense. "Although it has been a while…no, what I meant was, now I understand why it's been so difficult trying to get you back to Heathrow."

"Oh."

Just that, "oh," with no inflection. He felt his brow furrow; was she angry, too spent to care, or simply puzzling out his meaning? He needed to know, and gently turned her so she was facing him in order to peer into her eyes. "I didn't mean I was doing it on purpose," he said, keeping his voice as gentle as his touch. "I just meant…well, the TARDIS. No matter how many times we tried to get you home, she must have known what was growing between us, so no matter how carefully I entered the coordinates, they were always going to be off until we…gave in."

"Oh." That time he heard a cautious note of surprise in the single syllable, dimmed immediately as she added: "Too bad it took Adric dying to get us here."

"Yes." It was his turn to respond with a monosyllable, but he just wasn't ready to dive back into that particular emotional quagmire, to mix a metaphor or two. He'd already explained to Tegan why they couldn't simply fly the TARDIS back to the freighter in the moments before it crashed into Earth and rescue their friend. He just hoped she would be able to accept that one day, accept it and move on the way they all needed to when someone they cared for died. Especially someone as young and full of life as Adric had been…

"So." Tegan interrupted his thoughts with another monosyllable. He lifted an inquiring eyebrow as a trace of the imp made itself known by the curl of her kiss-swollen lips, the droop of her half-closed eyes. "How does a time machine know what its owner wants before he does?"

Miracles could happen; unless his ears deceived him, Tegan was deliberately changing the subject she herself had introduced. "I mean, yeah, I get that it's sort of alive and has telepathic circuitry, but to read your subconscious?" She shook her head. "That's amazing."

"Yes, it is, rather," he agreed, pleased she wasn't demanding a fuller explanation for his words. Perhaps she was finally beginning to trust him, which would be a nice change. Not that he expected a single night of passion to repair their contentious relationship, no matter how satisfying – and he wouldn't be bragging to state that she was obviously just as satisfied at the moment as he was. No, it would take more than that to fix the damage done by her inability to understand why he had to allow Adric to stay dead, but it was a start.

"Wait a second," Tegan said suddenly, eyes narrowed as she turned her body so they were fully facing one another, scooting away as she did so. "If the TARDIS was deliberately keeping me here, not letting you take me home, then that means your ship is responsible for bringing us to Deva Loka, that it wasn't an accident." She met his gaze with a scowl. "So it's to blame for that blasted snake getting inside me!"

The Doctor swooped in to prevent this newest fit of outrage from erupting by pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her lips, temporarily silencing her and eventually eliciting a satisfied groan when he pulled away. Lowering his head, he nuzzled her throat and breathed in her ear: "I can think of another snake that wouldn't mind being inside you right now." He wiggled his hips suggestively.

He knew he'd successfully navigated the fraught moment when he heard her smothered laughter as she pressed her face against his shoulder and clutched his arms. "Doc, please, don't," she eventually managed to choke out. "I don't think I can take a Time Lord talking dirty to me."

Still, it wasn't all amusement that shortened her breath and brought a flush of warmth to her skin as her sleepiness seemed to vanish. He kissed her again before flicking his tongue out to lick the base of her throat, listening for the intake of breath that told him he'd found the right spot, the one that would eventually make her squirm and moan against him.

"Very well, I promise never to do it again," he said, speaking directly into her skin, knowing she would hear him as clearly as if he'd pressed his lips against her ear.

"Besides," she said after a few moments spent moaning and squirming, exactly as he'd predicted as his mouth continued its delicate exploration of her salty sweetness, "you can't possibly be ready for more of…that…just yet!"

In response he pulled her hand down and pressed it to his shaft, which hardened obediently beneath her touch. "Double circulatory system," he reminded her, pulling his head up in order to meet her eyes, a lazy smile on his lips. "There isn't a single-circulatory species in existence that can match a Time Lord for stamina when it comes to sex." He knew he sounded smug, boasting about an aspect of Gallifreyan physiology in a way his people would consider crass, but it was true and in this moment, with this woman, he couldn't care less what his people might think about it.

Tegan's giggle could have been demeaning, could have broken the mood he was trying to create, but it did neither of these things, instead serving to entice him into another kiss. His tongue teased her lips for entrance; when she refused, he turned demanding, pushing his way inside and insisting she join the dance.

Her tongue met his, sliding around his with no hesitation; ah, so she'd been teasing him in her own way by refusing to grant him immediate access, temporarily forbidding an activity they clearly both enjoyed.

He moved his lips to her throat, biting down on her pulse point and eliciting one of the strangled moans that was swiftly joining his mental list of favorite sounds in the Universe. Her hands pressed his head closer, wordlessly demanding more, and he obliged, sucking her flesh, sinking his teeth deeper, knowing he was going to leave another bruise and feeling a surge of satisfaction at the knowledge. Like some primitive, he was marking his female, warning off possible rivals and letting her know he'd done so at the same time.

Well, why not? Sex was primitive, it was biological and messy and in his case unnecessary even for reproductive purposes since the Time Lords had perfected the Genetic Looms that wove new generations into being and had for millennia. But tonight he was happy to surrender to this basest of base instincts, to do as his body had been screaming at him to do ever since he'd first laid eyes on Tegan, although his mind had stubbornly refused to listen.

It was pheromones, of course, combined with the fact that he'd repressed that aspect of his physiology for centuries. Still, knowing the scientific reasons for the mutual attraction he and Tegan shared wasn't enough to explain the intensity of their coupling, the way his body was raging to join with hers yet again, why neither of them was ready for their time together to end.

A pang of conscience hit him; was Tegan going to expect more from him from now on, was she going to expect a romantic relationship when this had been nothing but sex from his point of view? Sex with a very desirable woman, one who could be quite pleasant when she wasn't ranting at him or calling him names – not that he hadn't done the same to her, but still – a short-lived Human woman whose single lifetime could never even come close to any one of his?

As if reading his thoughts in his momentary hesitation, she scratched her nails lightly down his back, bringing him back to the moment. "Stop thinking so much," she ordered crossly. "I can feel it, it's killing the mood." She met his gaze unflinchingly. "Sex doesn't have to change things. I promise, I won't start sighing and mooning after you all the time. It's just…nice. Nice to not be fighting with you, nice to not feel angry and scared for a change. So can't we just leave it at that for now? Worry about the future later, let it take care of itself?"

He nodded, pleased and astonished at how well she'd read him – and how honest she was being about her own feelings. Or rather, her stated _lack_ of feelings. She wasn't declaring love, but he could tell she wasn't lying to cover up how she really felt about him. He irritated and annoyed and bothered her as much as she did him; however, unlike himself, he suspected she'd known all along why that was.

Something to file away, something to ponder. Later. For now he slanted his mouth across hers, then allowed her to flip them over so she was straddling him, her sex pressed to his stomach, one hand reaching behind her back to stroke his increasingly-hard shaft until he felt as if a steel rod had been embedded in its length. He reached up to take her breasts in his hands, squeezing lightly, grazing his nails across her nipples and watching smugly as they hardened beneath his touch.

She shivered and leaned forward, allowing his hungry mouth to take the rosy tip of each breast into his mouth in turn, lifting her body and shifting it until suddenly he was sheathed in her hot wetness, gasping and moaning the way he liked to hear her do. He sucked hard at the nipple currently inhabiting his mouth, worrying at it until her own gasps joined his. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders, but as he sank his teeth into her breast her fingers clenched, fingernails digging deep into his flesh, marking him as he'd already marked her.

She began moving then, sliding herself up and down his shaft, and his hips bucked beneath the pleasant weight of her body, matching her rhythm and then forcing her to speed her movements in order to keep up with him. When she started to straighten up he released her breast from his hungry mouth with a great deal of reluctance, avidly observing her face as she rocked and shook above him. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, teeth sunk into her lower lip, an expression of intense concentration on her face that he knew was matched by the one on his own. Then her eyes snapped open and met his, brown staring into blue, and she leaned down and forced a savage kiss on him, nipping at his lips, shoving her tongue into his mouth and demanding he meet her with equal savagery.

His hands moved up her thighs, where they'd been passively resting, and clutched at her hips, helping to pound her against his groin, matching that savagery, expressing it via the medium of his entire body. He would leave marks there as well; neither of them would emerge from this evening's activities unbruised, and he was feeling male enough to take a great deal of satisfaction in that fact.

Tegan was close; he could feel the shivers starting, radiating from where their bodies were currently joined, and increased the frantic rhythm to a punishing battle of thrust and give, no cries for mercy and no outcome allowed or expected except complete and unconditional surrender.

She straightened up again, pulling her face away from his and throwing her head back as she had the first time she climaxed, her face contorting and fingernails drawing blood as they raked their way down his chest.

Knowing the collapse that would inevitably follow, he pulled her back down against his bleeding chest and rolled over so she lay beneath him, still pumping away furiously. His own climax wasn't going to be following so swiftly on the heels of hers, not this time; he was far too aroused to allow things to end quickly.

In fact, he was far too aroused to allow her to simply rest on her laurels, so to speak, so he opened his mind, just the slightest bit, trailing tendrils into the pleasure center of her brain as he continued to thrust and rut against her.

He heard her surprised gasp, saw her eyes open wide and meet his. He offered a savage, triumphant smile in response as he grasped her left leg below the knee and hauled up so he could bury himself deeper within her, groaning at the feel of her interior muscles once again clenching and releasing as her orgasm shuddered its way to its conclusion.

**oOo**

Tegan felt wrung out, completely destroyed as she came, but also a bit like she was being rebuilt from the ground up. Oh, that didn't make any sense, not even inside her own, pleasure-dazed mind, but it was exactly how she felt as the Doctor flipped her onto her back and continued his relentless invasion of her body while she was still shuddering in the aftershocks of her second climax.

He'd already won the bloody war, she'd already surrendered – twice – what was keeping him so furiously attacking her defenses? Why couldn't he allow himself to release, to let himself climax, the way he had the first time, within seconds of her own wrenching orgasm?

The look of animalistic pleasure on his face answered that question as soon as she was able to open her tightly shut eyes and study him. He smiled down at her, something dark and dangerous that brought a curl of heat from her toes to her head, or was it something else? Her eyes widened as she felt…something. She wasn't sure what it was, but she knew she liked it.

His eyes closed, his lips peeled back from his teeth in a grimace of intense concentration, as if fucking her were the only thing in the world that mattered. It stole her breath, that intensity, that primal fury, and she found her exhausted, spent body responding as if that glimpse into the beast behind the civilized Time Lord façade had jolted her awake with the shock of an electric current pulsing through her.

How could she be feeling this way, riding another crest as if she hadn't just tumbled down the tidal wave to land in the shallows? How?

The Doctor's eyes opened, and his snarl of sexual intensity morphed into a savage grin as he reached one hand around behind him and slid it against the crack of her ass, pressing lightly at the entrance, already slick with their combined juices.

She bucked her hips beneath him, eyes wide in shock as yes, another orgasm crashed through her body.

She screamed herself raw this time as his pounding continued unabated. She tore her leg from his grip and wrapped it around his waist, then added her other leg, her arms going around his neck in a virtual stranglehold, fingers digging themselves into hair and scalp with equal abandon, hips bucking madly as the orgasm seemed to go on and on, abating and slowing and then suddenly incredibly, impossibly rising and cresting and carrying her over the edge in a series of tsunamis that never seemed to end.

The intensity was too much for her overloaded mind and body to take in; one last orgasm smashed into her as she screamed and went rigid and felt the Doctor finally giving in and joining his cries to her own, his hands grasping her arms and the sweat dripping from his body to join hers as she passed into temporary darkness.

**oOo**

The Doctor stared down at Tegan's limp form in disbelief. Rassilon's Spear, he'd fucked her into unconsciousness. Was she going to be all right? He pulled himself out of her and pressed his fingers to her throat. Pulse rapid but steady, breathing the same, no sign that he'd done any lasting damage to her cardiovascular system. Thank Rassilon.

The concern rapidly changed to smug self-satisfaction. He'd literally fucked her unconscious. Imagine that. Superior Time Lord physiology coupled with a simple mental biofeedback loop and he'd fucked this woman unconscious. He felt like beating his chest and roaring his triumph to the world.

Although he'd used biofeedback stimulus with partners in the past, they'd also been Gallifreyan and although their reactions had been intense, none of them had had their minds temporarily short-circuited like this. A strictly Human reaction or a strictly Tegan reaction? Further research, he thought with a return of his smug satisfaction, was definitely called for. He would have to investigate further the next time they had sex.

Oh, yes, there _would_ be a next time. There was absolutely no way this was the end for the two of them – not tonight, certainly, but also not until he eventually got her home. Perhaps the TARDIS would take that fact into consideration and continue her deliberate interference in that process until he and Tegan were well and truly sated with one another.

For now, he contented himself with watching her unconscious form, disheveled and sweat-stained and reeking of their commingled bodily fluids – well, of sex, no need to go analytical just yet. He nestled his body against hers, encircling her with his arms, resting his chin atop her head. She wouldn't be unconscious for long and when she did wake up she would undoubtedly have a few choice words for him, but he would enjoy the calm before the storm for as long as it lasted.

After all, he and Tegan had never been a restful, quiet pair to begin with; he found that he quite looked forward to their next, inevitable fight with something like eagerness, now that he'd unraveled the mystery of why his temper was so easily aroused by her.

With any luck, Heathrow would be far, far in their shared future.

**Epilogue - T****he Next Morning**

Nyssa yawned and stretched, automatically turning her eyes to Tegan's bed to see if her room-mate was awake as well. She generally slept later than Nyssa, but sometimes…

Nyssa's eyes widened as she took in the unrumpled, obviously unslept in nature of the room's other bed. Had Tegan gotten so worked up from her argument with the Doctor that she'd been unable to sleep? Was she even now curled up in an armchair in her favorite reading room, getting a stiff neck from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position? Or was she still prowling the corridors, too angry and upset for sleep to settle its balm upon her rather spiky but fiercely loyal soul?

Before Nyssa could throw the covers off and hurry to seek Tegan out, the door to their room slowly opened, Tegan herself peeking around the corner.

As soon as her eyes met those of her room-mate, they widened, then briefly shut. Nyssa could have sworn she winced before she reopened her eyes, pasting a bright smile to her lips. "Morning! I thought it would be too early even for you to be up and about!"

"Obviously," Nyssa replied slowly, studying her friend, unsure what it was about her that seemed out of place – difficult to tell, really, since she was still mostly hidden by the door. What was keeping her from coming fully into the room, why was she…

_Oh!_ Nyssa's eyes widened as she finally took in the full details of Tegan's face and head. Her hair, usually so beautifully groomed, stuck out wildly, curls and tendrils clinging to her neck as if plastered there by…sweat? And were those strands of hair covering…no, it couldn't be…

"Tegan! Did you and the Doctor have sex last night?!" she exclaimed, still staring at what looked very much like a series of bruises and bite marks marring the parts of Tegan's throat she could see.

She continued to stare, open-mouthed, as Tegan rolled her eyes, heaved a heavy sigh…and pushed the door open all the way.

Nyssa's mouth remained open as her friend limped – _limped!_ – into the room. She was carrying her lilac heels in one hand; her jacket was hanging over the same arm, her hat, stockings and neck scarf dangling from where they had been stuffed into a sleeve. Her shirt was only partially buttoned – incorrectly, at that, and hanging out over her skirt. And was that her _knickers_ balled up in her fist behind the shoes?

Her hand crept up to stuff itself against her mouth, stifling her urge to ask Tegan what in the world she was thinking, how could she and the Doctor do such a thing, didn't they know how to behave like civilized beings…something like that. Or what finally did burst out, a simple, scandalized: "Tegan! How _could_ you?!"


End file.
